She turned away, ignoring the pulse of anguish that burst out of him, and gently brushed the Lancer’s bound hair aside. Laying one hand on the back of her neck, she reached out to slide the other under the colonel’s. Her eyes closed.
“I can’t do it all,” Dewar said urgently. “Check her pulse. Tell me if it goes below thirty-five beats per tick.”
Vellmar hesitated, then traced her fingers against Opah’s throat, searching for the pulse point. Right about…here. She pressed harder and felt a strong beat against her fingers. Holding up her wristcom, she began counting to establish the base rate. Fifty-five beats per tick; healthy and normal. She relaxed the pressure, watching Opah for signs of contact with the others.
Herot hovered over them, and though she tried to ignore him, she found his presence distracting and annoying. She had disliked him from the moment she first touched his emotions and felt his terror at seeing Lancer Tal. Herot and his sister must have come from two different planets; it was the only explanation.
“I don’t think you’ve been officially informed yet,” she said, making no effort to hide her irritation. “Herot Arrin Opah, you are in the custody of the Lancer’s Guards on the charge of direct enabling of an attempted assassination. You will be remanded to the Alsean Investigative Force upon our return to Blacksun. In the meantime, I suggest you sit down and get the shek out of our way.”
He nodded slowly and turned away, only to twist back as his sister gasped and stiffened. Vellmar immediately began a new count.
Already fifty-three beats per tick. This was going to be a long trip.
CHAPTER 38:
Redmoon
Tal was more tired than she could ever recall. Holding on to Micah and Salomen had become instinct rather than active intent. Though time did not exist here, she knew enough from her state of exhaustion to understand that out there, in the conscious world, she was approaching the point of departure. She would either have to leave this place or leave her body.
But if Salomen was here with her, why would she want to go back?
It was a seductive thought. Back there lay responsibility and stress and fear for Micah. Here it was…peaceful.
She had been in this link long enough to view her pre-Sharing self as someone else entirely. That other Andira Tal was juggling too many things, dealing with too many betrayals, and scrambling to keep up with the latest threats to her title, her governance, and her loved ones. She was living a ridiculously stressful life compared to this quiet, comforting place. The greatest draw of that life were two very special people, and they were linked with her now, so what was left? It was so simple here.
Voices murmured in the distance, and someone jostled the body she had left outside. She drew away, willing those who would disturb her to leave her alone. A small alarm sounded in her mind, telling her she had gone too deep, but it was easy to ignore.
She floated in the link, her exhaustion giving way to a feeling of contentment. No, there was nothing left. It was too late anyway, wasn’t it?
The voices grew louder and the jostling more violent. At first Salomen responded with the same irritation Tal had, but it changed to relief. Tal wondered about the odd emotion, her thoughts moving slowly as she drifted.
Salomen let go.
Shocked into a moment of clarity, Tal reached out. No! Salomen!
But her tyree was already sinking, and Micah was trying to pull away. Everything had gone wrong.
Come back.
She felt the call as clearly as if Salomen had spoken aloud. The voices broke in, their words taking shape.
“Lancer Tal, you must come back. We cannot move him until you do. Lancer Tal, please!”
Slowly, the realization dawned. They were in Redmoon. She was only here to hold Micah as long as necessary. This wasn’t her place—and Salomen had gone back.
When she let go, Micah retreated at an alarming speed. With one last empathic plea for him to stay, she turned and followed Salomen into the darkness. It closed around her, enveloping her in its soft weight, pushing her downward. Faster and faster she sank, too tired to slow herself down.
She slammed into her body, her physical senses reeling with a sudden flood of input. So much light and noise, and Fahla, she was weak as a newborn! As she slumped to the side, someone caught her, gently lifting and pulling her backward until she was resting in something soft. Her eyes fluttered open in time to see Vellmar and Senshalon pick up Micah’s stretcher and vanish out the door.
Dewar stayed, holding a medical scanner over her wrist. “You’re going to need a long nap after that,” she said. “I suggest you both stay here for a few ticks before running after the colonel. Especially you, Lancer Tal. You went right up to the line.”
No, she had gone over the line. But Dewar didn’t need to know that, and Salomen really didn’t.
Tal lifted a heavy arm to rub her forehead ridges, which ached where they had been pressed against Micah’s in that awkward angle. “I’ve never had to go that far before. He’s ready to Return. He only stayed because we asked him to, and he pulled away just before I came out. I don’t know how long they have before he forgets about us.”
“He’s in the hands of the best trauma healers on Pallea. If there’s any chance at all, they’ll bring him back.” Dewar pressed a skinspray against her wrist. “That will help with the fatigue and the rubbery muscles.” She turned to Salomen, who sat slumped in the next seat, and sprayed her as well. “But the best thing for you is a little sleep. Don’t fight it.”
“I promise that if a nap knocks on my door, I won’t argue,” Tal said.
Salomen was silent, her head resting on the seat back and her eyes closed. Judging by her diminished presence in their link, she was even more exhausted than Tal.
“Are you all right?” Tal asked.
“I think so,” Salomen said without opening her eyes. “As long as you don’t ask me to move. I feel completely drained.”
“You are,” Dewar said. “It’s a good thing we weren’t any farther away than this. But the two of you kept Colonel Micah stable. Given the situation, we couldn’t have asked for better.”
Tal rolled her head from side to side, stretching the kinks from her neck, and stopped when she saw who sat on the other side of the aisle. One seat away, with a crutch leaned up against the hull, was the man who had caused all of this. A surge of anger energized her as their eyes met. Without breaking their gaze, she pushed herself up and slowly walked to stand in front of him.
“Have you been informed of the charge?” she asked.
Herot nodded. “Lan—”
“Save it. You and I are going to have a long talk later. Until then, I don’t want to hear a shekking word out of you. Dewar, Nilsinian, escort the prisoner to the healers to get that ankle treated. I suspect he’s got a few other scrapes and bruises that may need looking at. Do not let him out of your sight. And Gehrain, go with them.” She saw the look on Gehrain’s face and raised an eyebrow at him. “That was not a suggestion. You need to get your head checked.”
“We’ve been saying that for a long time,” Nilsinian muttered, and the other Guards chuckled.
Tal recognized the humor for what it was. “I know we’re all worried. And we might as well worry in the healing center, so let’s go in there and frighten the natives.” A unit of Lancer’s Guards in full mission gear was guaranteed to do just that, but none of them had planned on a side excursion. They were fresh out of regular uniforms. “I want two Guards on our other guests and four on the transport perimeter. The rest of you can go. And Dewar, I want to know everything about Micah just as soon as you know it.”
“Of course,” Dewar said. She and Nilsinian helped Herot from his seat and flanked him as he hobbled past. He turned his head, watching his sister, but Salomen’s eyes remained closed.
As the
remaining Guards discussed among themselves who would stay on watch, Tal glanced toward the back of the transport. Parser’s warriors were still unconscious, which meant someone had sedated them. They were going to be considerably surprised to wake up and find themselves secured to seats in her transport.
She walked up the fore corridor to poke her head in the pilot’s cabin. “Thornlan?”
Thornlan turned around. “Twenty-one ticks. I think I need to go out and apologize to my engines. Will he be all right?”
“We won’t know for a while. Do you want a break? I’m staying here.” Regulations required at least one qualified pilot to remain in the transport whenever it was off base.
“I could use the chance to stretch my legs.”
“Then go. And thank you for getting us here so quickly.”
“Colonel Micah gave me this post.” Thornlan smiled at her. “Over someone’s objections, I heard. I owed him.”
“Sooner or later, everyone does. And I have no idea whose objections you’re talking about. I’ve always thought you were the best pilot for the post.” Tal waved her out and followed her into the main cabin, now empty of all Guards except Corlander and Windenal, who were sitting near the prisoners. As Thornlan went down the ramp, Tal stopped in front of Salomen and spoke to the Guards.
“I want to know the moment they come out of it. Even if I’m asleep. If you knock on my cabin door and don’t hear an answer, come in anyway.”
They exchanged glances. “Yes, Lancer,” said Windenal.
“Don’t worry, we’re too tired to be caught in any compromising positions.” It was only partially a joke; she could feel Salomen on the verge of more than just exhaustion. “Wouldn’t you prefer to rest in my cabin?” she asked quietly.
Salomen held out a hand, allowing Tal to help her up and lead her into the private cabin.
With the door shut behind them, Tal wasted no time pulling her into a warmron. “Finally,” she murmured.
Still Salomen said nothing, simply holding on tight. Tal pushed down her own emotions; one of them hovering near a breakdown was enough. She projected what little calm she could, prepared to stand there for as long as it took.
At last Salomen loosed her hold and pulled back. “I’m all right. Don’t worry.”
“Of course I’m going to worry. You’re never this quiet.”
“Little do you know. I’ve been quiet for the last several hanticks.” The weariness and grief showed in her eyes. “And terrified for you. Turns out I was afraid for the wrong person. I’m so sorry about Colonel Micah.”
Tal couldn’t talk about that. “I need to change and make two quick calls. And when I’m done, you and I are going to sit here and just be alone for a while. Is that all right?”
“Do what you need to.” Salomen pulled out the nearest chair at the conference table and sat heavily.
Tal leaned down to kiss her temple. “Thank you for what you did.”
“I just hope it was enough.” She looked more alert, and Tal sensed her control sliding back into place. Once again she was reminded just how strong her tyree really was.
She pulled a clean uniform from the clothing cupboard, set it on the counter, and peeled off her mission clothes. The pants were the worst. Micah’s blood had dried, making the knees stiff and crusty. She felt sick as she threw them in the storage cupboard, and even worse when she saw that her hands were stained red. She scrubbed them ferociously in the small sink, then took a quick sponge bath before sliding on the clean clothes. It was remarkable how something as simple as a fresh uniform could make her feel like a new woman.
Salomen watched as she tucked in her shirt. “Now you look more like the Lancer I know,” she said. “You were a little intimidating in that mission uniform.”
“That wasn’t the design intent, but I’ll take any advantage I can get.” Tal ran a light hand across the back of Salomen’s neck as she stepped past her.
It was the work of moments to unlatch the fold-down desk and pull the chair from its recessed cubby. She slid it into place, locking it out of habit even though the transport was on the ground, and a few pipticks later had Colonel Razine on the large vidcom above the desk.
“Lancer Tal! I’m glad to hear from you. I presume from your message that you recovered Herot Opah.”
“Yes, we did. Do you have Parser back in custody?”
“Oh, yes,” Razine said, a rare smile lighting her face. “That was the most enjoyable thing I’ve been able to do all cycle. He was not a happy man. He said the game wasn’t over, but I think that was just hot air.”
Tal frowned. “Did you scan him?”
“There was no need.”
“Do it anyway, and ask him what he means about the game. I have a nasty feeling you’ll find too much confidence. We were almost caught in a trap—Colonel Micah stopped it from killing him and five other Guards. I’m on edge enough to think Parser might have other traps set as well.”
Razine swore softly. “We underestimated him.”
“Not anymore. I want you to go to the High Tribunal and get a warrant for empathic force. I’m done playing that zalren’s games. He’s going to tell us everything.”
“I was already planning to be there first thing in the morning. Is your team all right?”
“No. We’re at Redmoon right now. Colonel Micah suffered a severe disruptor injury.”
“Oh, shek. I’m sorry, Lancer Tal.”
“So am I,” Tal said grimly. “This is one case I’m going to speak for. If my recommendation has anything to do with it, Parser will have to dig up to find the fifth level of the Pit.”
“Good.” Razine’s eyes were flinty. “I’ll give him a dull spade. Do you need anything in Redmoon?”
“Actually, yes. I don’t know how long we’ll be here, and I have three prisoners to offload: Herot Opah and two of Parser’s employees. He called them warriors, but I don’t think they were sworn. They felt more like mercenaries to me. And as long as you’re flying a transport out here, all of my Guards need their regular uniforms. They’re not dressed for a healing center at the moment.”
Razine made a note and nodded.
“We didn’t get them all. The one who shot Micah got away, and with Micah’s injuries, we couldn’t run her down. So I want Parser’s hired thugs scanned and questioned, and if they don’t give the right answers, I want warrants for empathic force on them, too.”
“I’ll take care of it. The transport can be there in five hanticks.”
“Good. Contact Redmoon Base and have them send out an explosives team to the coordinates I’m sending you.” She quickly accessed the transport’s logs and tied in the record. “There are explosives wired directly into the basement ceiling of the house where Herot was being held. The entry to the basement is in the third room from the living area, left of the stairs. Tell them to be extremely careful—some of the lead lines are already carrying a ramp-up current. My guess is they all were before Micah destroyed the control box.”
Razine sucked in a breath. “That was the trap? How much of the basement is wired?”
“All of it. And it extends beneath the entire house.”
“Great Goddess.”
“I think the warrior who got away was trying to blow the house. There’s a blast door built into the basement wall right by the panel controlling the charges. She probably planned to set off the charges and be safely behind the door when the floor blew and the house dropped into the basement.” Tal paused as a memory flickered. “Parser said Herot would be found dead and it would be blamed on my Guards. He said two of my Guards would be found dead as well. Now I’m wondering if this was his backup plan. If the warrior in charge of destroying the house had realized we were inside just a few ticks earlier, she could have blown it with Herot and six of my Guards inside—and me.”
She felt the spike of horror from Salomen and shot her an apologetic glance.
“And most of Parser’s crew as well,” Razine said. “Then he could flip the whole thing over and say his warriors died trying to rescue Herot from us.”
“Exactly. And I would have just made a worldwide announcement of his innocence in the corruption investigation, so his word would have carried more weight than it should. Not to mention the fact that everyone on Alsea already saw what looked like my Guards taking Herot out of the Napoline transport station on the afternoon news. Though I don’t think his plan included catching me as well. It was a lot of work to go to on the remote chance we might find Herot, but Parser really did think of everything. He had backup plans for his backup plans, which is why I’m worried about him saying the game isn’t over.”
Razine whistled softly. “Then we shouldn’t wait for the High Tribunal to convene at its normal time. I’ll send a message to the adjudicators to meet me at hantick seven; that way I should have a warrant in hand and be inside Parser’s brain before eight.”
“Good.” Tal hoped she tore him apart.
“I must confess, this is a conversation I’m looking forward to. That merchant has much to answer for. I’m beginning to think you were lucky to have only one injury.”
She winced at the growing anger coming from Salomen. “I’m thinking the same. I need to make another call, Colonel. Oh, one more thing. Tell the Redmoon team they’ll be collecting five bodies in the house and two more up on the ridges. I’ll have Vellmar send the coordinates of the outpost guards. And find out who that house belongs to.”
“Consider it done.”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 28